At work this morning I realized that all the managers, supervisors and otherwise responsible people were on vacation. So I turned to Flossie, my coworker and said, "Hey! We don't have any adult supervision today!" She said, "You're right" and I said, "well, except for me . . . I guess I'm an adult. I have a degree you know!" She just laughed and said, "You sure do!"
Of course my degree has absolutely nothing to do with my job. I made my "no adult supervision" comment in all earnestness since I am low man on the totem pole at work and I am much associated with my young coworker as we exude silliness about the place.
Today we were having a non-sensical conversation, basically ignoring the two other people sitting at the table with us. We discussed how tsunami was a pretty word, and if it didn't have such a horrible meaning we would name a daughter such a nice name. "This is my daughter Tsunami, and her twin Alluetta."
One of our table mates chimed in to say how tragic the tsunami was, and why did it have a "t" at the beginning? Well, we just didn't know, perhaps only because it is foreign, but there are plenty of English words with the same affliction! Knife, knee, knight (kanigit) not only that but pneumonia, psychology, how about comb and bomb (which I'm sure are supposed to rhyme, but they do not!)
Another person joined us and said, "what are you talking about?" and I said, "bombs!" (with the second b pronounced) He said, "oh." Flossie explained about the unpronounced letters. (I was content to leave him wondering if I was retarded, apparently she was a little more concerned for my dignity.)
He said, "well, I thought you'd be talking about sciency things, usually that's what people talk about here."
You see that was his mistake, taking us for scientists . . . We are just there for the love and attention, and the weekly pay check.
By that time the others had tired of our nonsense and moved on.
We moved on to discuss our British names recalling that mine was Cynthia Castlebottom. I declared that the spelling should henceforth be Tsythiab Castlebottom.
And Flossie said, you know when you watch a sitcom and you think, "nobody really has conversations like that!" We have those kinds of conversations all the time.
I said, "yes, I know." with a lateral lisp.
Wednesday, December 29, 2004
Wednesday, December 22, 2004
Everyday when I drive to work I pass Mac Author Blvd, and lately when I see I've been thinking about a song that always intrigued me a kid. "Mac Author's Park"
The words are (If I remember correctly) "Mac Author's Park is melting in the dark, all the sweet green icing flowing down. Someone left the cake out in the rain. I don't think that I can take it, 'cause it took so long to bake it, and I'll never have that recipe again!"
The only real way to know what that means would be to ask the writer, but in my mind it always meant- here is the end of a relationship, which was very good, but became neglected and the singer fears he will not have a relationship as good as that one again.
What a strange metaphor. Honestly, who would leave a cake out in the rain?! If there is cake and there is rain, the cake is coming with me to a dry spot. I would never forget a cake. A loaf of bread, maybe, but not a cake, especially a cake with green frosting. I mean, you don't come across a green frosted cake every day. Well, it's just a thought
The words are (If I remember correctly) "Mac Author's Park is melting in the dark, all the sweet green icing flowing down. Someone left the cake out in the rain. I don't think that I can take it, 'cause it took so long to bake it, and I'll never have that recipe again!"
The only real way to know what that means would be to ask the writer, but in my mind it always meant- here is the end of a relationship, which was very good, but became neglected and the singer fears he will not have a relationship as good as that one again.
What a strange metaphor. Honestly, who would leave a cake out in the rain?! If there is cake and there is rain, the cake is coming with me to a dry spot. I would never forget a cake. A loaf of bread, maybe, but not a cake, especially a cake with green frosting. I mean, you don't come across a green frosted cake every day. Well, it's just a thought
Sunday, December 19, 2004
I dreamed I was cutting out my ingrown toenail, and when I finally got it trimmed back so that it wouldn't hurt me, I pulled the toe nail back to see what was behind it and there were balls of yarn, papers and toys under there. I started to pull them out, but it was like an endless cavern!
I don't know what that means.
I also dreamed that I was cleaning someone's house and I noticed that the walls and blinds were especially dirty. I started scrubbing them down and the dirt was coming off easily. But they stopped me from cleaning because they said the paint would come off and the dyes in the curtains and blinds would run. I thought to myself in my dream that it would be better to have faded, clean walls and blinds than to have dirty ones, or they should just buy new if they were so worried about the colors.
I don't know what that means either.
I don't know what that means.
I also dreamed that I was cleaning someone's house and I noticed that the walls and blinds were especially dirty. I started scrubbing them down and the dirt was coming off easily. But they stopped me from cleaning because they said the paint would come off and the dyes in the curtains and blinds would run. I thought to myself in my dream that it would be better to have faded, clean walls and blinds than to have dirty ones, or they should just buy new if they were so worried about the colors.
I don't know what that means either.
I used to receive the Dallas Morning News. It got to the point where I never took them out of the the plastic bags and just threw them in the closet. I pulled the September 4 edition out yesterday to use it for wrapping paper, and I thouhg I'd read the funnies first. I found this.
Aside from Arafat's recent passing, this comic intrests me on several levels. First it is making a very non-pc statement about cultural norms in the Middle East, second, it is a pig making those comments . . . which makes an Islamic world leader cry --irony, yes?
Sunday, December 12, 2004
My semester was going well until just a few weeks ago when my professor turned into an evil menace. I handed in a 10 page research paper on reform of western based ESL curriculums and materials to be used in the Middle East and other Muslim contexts.
His comment was that it was "An Excellent paper, but some sloppy academic writing" and gave me a B. Then he crossed out the B and gave me a C. My paper went from an A to a C! I was a bit concerned about the change since that paper was 30% of my grade, and C is as good as failing in grad school.
So I looked at the paper and he was right. I had forgotten one of my citations. I forgot one citation! I went to him and explained that I had simply forgotten it. It was a list and I had wondered if the citation needed to go at the beginning or the end or if it needed to be interspersed through out the list, then I suppose I got distracted and forgot. I made a mistake!
(Dear Jesus,
I made a mistake. I forgot a citation. Can I still come to heaven when I'm done here? Do you have enough blood to cover this one?)
I told my prof I thought two letter grades for a mistake was a bit harsh. He said, "oh that wasn't the only place." It wasn't huh? No, he pointed out a cited paraphrase he didn't like. He also pointed out a few other phrases and words he thought were questionable.
He pointed out my use of the phrases global culture, public property, Islamic Revolution and Islamic clergy.
If I understand the rules of plagerism correctly one needs only put quotes around words and phrases within a summerized text setting, (ie, I summerized and cited a section of an article) if the word or phrase in question is particular to the author. If for example this author coined the pharse global culture I would write it as "global culture" not just global culture.
As far as I'm concerned, however, the phrase global culture is public property! Anyone who reads or speakes about the world in a general context uses and is intimatly aquainted with the phrase global culture! It's not new!
And Islamic Revolution! That is the name of a historical event! How can I use other words for it? My sentance: "In 1978-1979 Ayatollah Knomeini led the Islamic Revolution in Iran, which toppled the Pahlavi dynasty and replaced it with Islamic rule."
Perhaps I should have written "In 1978-1979 "Ayatollah" Knomeini supposedly led the so called "Islamic Revolution." I don't believe it really happened, because after all, Iran isn't a real country and Islam isn't a real religion."
How would this sentance be interpreted: In 1775 Paul Revere rode to warn colonists of the begining of the "American Revolution." The quotation marks indicate to readers that either a. it wasn't a real event or b. this is just the title that some people call it, while others do not accept this title. Everyone calls it the American Revolution, just as everyone calls what happened in Iran in 1979 the Islamic Revolution.
I can't really protest the grade because I did forget the one citation, and it is up to the teacher's disgression as to how to deal with issues of "academic dishonesty."
However, I did tell him I disagreed with his assessment, that I wasn't a cheater. On his final he was nervy enough to ask "Why do you think your proffessor has such strong feelings regarding the issue of plagerism concerning the writings of graduate students and TESOL professionals?" for extra credit.
I wrote something along the lines of the importance of academic honesty so that one may be an example of excellence for fellow students, future students and for future-fellow professionals. Then I put "And so your professor doesn't take two letter grades off a paper worth 30% of your grade which could potentially cause you to have to take the class again as a result of a MISTAKE." I thought about adding something about the Islamic Revolution, but I didn't since I'd already written him another nasty little note in one of the "short answer" blanks of the test concerning the appropriateness of the question in light of the focus of the class and his comments on what and how to study for his final.
I'll probably have to take that class again. This degree is getting longer and longer.
His comment was that it was "An Excellent paper, but some sloppy academic writing" and gave me a B. Then he crossed out the B and gave me a C. My paper went from an A to a C! I was a bit concerned about the change since that paper was 30% of my grade, and C is as good as failing in grad school.
So I looked at the paper and he was right. I had forgotten one of my citations. I forgot one citation! I went to him and explained that I had simply forgotten it. It was a list and I had wondered if the citation needed to go at the beginning or the end or if it needed to be interspersed through out the list, then I suppose I got distracted and forgot. I made a mistake!
(Dear Jesus,
I made a mistake. I forgot a citation. Can I still come to heaven when I'm done here? Do you have enough blood to cover this one?)
I told my prof I thought two letter grades for a mistake was a bit harsh. He said, "oh that wasn't the only place." It wasn't huh? No, he pointed out a cited paraphrase he didn't like. He also pointed out a few other phrases and words he thought were questionable.
He pointed out my use of the phrases global culture, public property, Islamic Revolution and Islamic clergy.
If I understand the rules of plagerism correctly one needs only put quotes around words and phrases within a summerized text setting, (ie, I summerized and cited a section of an article) if the word or phrase in question is particular to the author. If for example this author coined the pharse global culture I would write it as "global culture" not just global culture.
As far as I'm concerned, however, the phrase global culture is public property! Anyone who reads or speakes about the world in a general context uses and is intimatly aquainted with the phrase global culture! It's not new!
And Islamic Revolution! That is the name of a historical event! How can I use other words for it? My sentance: "In 1978-1979 Ayatollah Knomeini led the Islamic Revolution in Iran, which toppled the Pahlavi dynasty and replaced it with Islamic rule."
Perhaps I should have written "In 1978-1979 "Ayatollah" Knomeini supposedly led the so called "Islamic Revolution." I don't believe it really happened, because after all, Iran isn't a real country and Islam isn't a real religion."
How would this sentance be interpreted: In 1775 Paul Revere rode to warn colonists of the begining of the "American Revolution." The quotation marks indicate to readers that either a. it wasn't a real event or b. this is just the title that some people call it, while others do not accept this title. Everyone calls it the American Revolution, just as everyone calls what happened in Iran in 1979 the Islamic Revolution.
I can't really protest the grade because I did forget the one citation, and it is up to the teacher's disgression as to how to deal with issues of "academic dishonesty."
However, I did tell him I disagreed with his assessment, that I wasn't a cheater. On his final he was nervy enough to ask "Why do you think your proffessor has such strong feelings regarding the issue of plagerism concerning the writings of graduate students and TESOL professionals?" for extra credit.
I wrote something along the lines of the importance of academic honesty so that one may be an example of excellence for fellow students, future students and for future-fellow professionals. Then I put "And so your professor doesn't take two letter grades off a paper worth 30% of your grade which could potentially cause you to have to take the class again as a result of a MISTAKE." I thought about adding something about the Islamic Revolution, but I didn't since I'd already written him another nasty little note in one of the "short answer" blanks of the test concerning the appropriateness of the question in light of the focus of the class and his comments on what and how to study for his final.
I'll probably have to take that class again. This degree is getting longer and longer.
So, I'm driving this Mercedes. I'm sure it was a really extraordinary car 25 years ago, but now it's just scary. The power steering fluid leaks, the oil leaks, the radio doesn't work, the interior lights are practically non-existent, I can't turn the heater off and I can't roll the windows down. The driver's side door won't lock and the other doors won't unlock. The sun roof works. The power seats work. The check break light never goes off and the turning signals blink when they want to.
My car is in the shop with as of yet unknown problems. Most importantly among these problems is that it won't start. I hope to find out what my course of action will be by Monday.
My car is in the shop with as of yet unknown problems. Most importantly among these problems is that it won't start. I hope to find out what my course of action will be by Monday.
Thursday, December 09, 2004
So, I think my most powerful planets are in retrograde or something . . . that was my excuse last time a “series of unfortunate events” happened to me. Let me tell you, Lemony Snicket or whatever her name is, don’t got that market cornered.
I suppose I’ll have to read the book to find out her gig, but I have a lot of complaining to do. Of course there is no time for it all now. I was diligently watching TV and knitting tonight. I finished my hat (oh-so-woefully-incorrectly-but-done) and my matching legwarmers got their final touch. Now, I shall begin work on the matching scarf and things will be well in my world. At least that is the theory.
I propose this theory to myself every day. Thus far I have been wrong (for at least the past two weeks) but I’m an optimist.
Today I was late for work. I had to stop by Auto Zone to get some power steering fluid. I am currently driving a friend’s car and while driving along yesterday it suddenly became nearly impossible to turn the wheel. I all but gave myself internal injuries trying to go around the block, because the needed U-turn was out of the question. It was 7 something AM, and I walked into Auto Zone and said, “I need steering fluid.”
The guy looked at me and cocked his head as if to say, “uh-oh crazy woman”
So I corrected myself by saying, “I need steering fluid,” and making pantomiming driving actions.
With rising intonation he said, “Steering fluid?”
I said, “Yes. I need (mental note, I know I’m missing a word here) steering fluid.”
He said, (as he suppressed a giggle) “You mean power steering fluid?”
And I said, “Yes Jack Ass POWER steering fluid! It’s freaking 7:00AM, get off my back! How often do you think I buy this crap?!”
No, I didn’t say that at all.
I said. “Yeah, that.”
As we approached the counter I realized that I had no idea where to put this power steering fluid. So I asked the guy if he would help me.
He said, “sure.”
When we got outside he said, “pop the hood.”
I said, “I don’t know how.”
Now, I am all about the “I’m just a girl, and this is a car!” routine, but my interactions up to that point with this guy were over the top even for me. Honestly though, I had no idea how to pop the hood. What made me feel better was that he didn’t know how to either. The manager of the store had to come out and find the well hidden lever.
So the guy puts the stuff in and it was like a freaking miracle fluid! Suddenly I could turn and have no worries of a hernia.
I got to work late and nobody was around. Eventually, I figured out there was a mandatory meeting. I ran up to it, got there just in time to win a prize and sign the attendance sheet. I got back to my desk and spilled an entire cup of hot tea all over my lap. From my hips to my knees—spiced tea with cream and sugar. (I just knew it was going to be really yummy too! Drat!)
Ironically the meeting I missed was concerning “spill clean up.” So . . . I had to go to Wal-Mart to buy new pants to wear the rest of the day.
Perhaps tomorrow I will chronicle why I was not driving my car and the other “personality quirks” of the car I’m currently driving.
I suppose I’ll have to read the book to find out her gig, but I have a lot of complaining to do. Of course there is no time for it all now. I was diligently watching TV and knitting tonight. I finished my hat (oh-so-woefully-incorrectly-but-done) and my matching legwarmers got their final touch. Now, I shall begin work on the matching scarf and things will be well in my world. At least that is the theory.
I propose this theory to myself every day. Thus far I have been wrong (for at least the past two weeks) but I’m an optimist.
Today I was late for work. I had to stop by Auto Zone to get some power steering fluid. I am currently driving a friend’s car and while driving along yesterday it suddenly became nearly impossible to turn the wheel. I all but gave myself internal injuries trying to go around the block, because the needed U-turn was out of the question. It was 7 something AM, and I walked into Auto Zone and said, “I need steering fluid.”
The guy looked at me and cocked his head as if to say, “uh-oh crazy woman”
So I corrected myself by saying, “I need steering fluid,” and making pantomiming driving actions.
With rising intonation he said, “Steering fluid?”
I said, “Yes. I need (mental note, I know I’m missing a word here) steering fluid.”
He said, (as he suppressed a giggle) “You mean power steering fluid?”
And I said, “Yes Jack Ass POWER steering fluid! It’s freaking 7:00AM, get off my back! How often do you think I buy this crap?!”
No, I didn’t say that at all.
I said. “Yeah, that.”
As we approached the counter I realized that I had no idea where to put this power steering fluid. So I asked the guy if he would help me.
He said, “sure.”
When we got outside he said, “pop the hood.”
I said, “I don’t know how.”
Now, I am all about the “I’m just a girl, and this is a car!” routine, but my interactions up to that point with this guy were over the top even for me. Honestly though, I had no idea how to pop the hood. What made me feel better was that he didn’t know how to either. The manager of the store had to come out and find the well hidden lever.
So the guy puts the stuff in and it was like a freaking miracle fluid! Suddenly I could turn and have no worries of a hernia.
I got to work late and nobody was around. Eventually, I figured out there was a mandatory meeting. I ran up to it, got there just in time to win a prize and sign the attendance sheet. I got back to my desk and spilled an entire cup of hot tea all over my lap. From my hips to my knees—spiced tea with cream and sugar. (I just knew it was going to be really yummy too! Drat!)
Ironically the meeting I missed was concerning “spill clean up.” So . . . I had to go to Wal-Mart to buy new pants to wear the rest of the day.
Perhaps tomorrow I will chronicle why I was not driving my car and the other “personality quirks” of the car I’m currently driving.
Friday, November 26, 2004
Monday, November 15, 2004
Saturday, November 13, 2004
I love presents, and who doesn’t? Blogging has been bountiful to me. Okay, well maybe two presents isn’t what some people would call bountiful, but what can I say? I’m present deprived.
A few years ago I wrote a blog about my “idiot strings.” I got reintroduced to the pleasures of mittens as my reward! That was fabulous, and I still have both of my mittens, even without the idiot strings.
This week I got a really special, unexpected gift by way of blog via fan/pen pal. (Fanpal?) I wrote about my much mourned over Mickey Mouse ring of ye old days of yore when vampires ate such trinkets to induce great fear and loathing from little girls such as I.
This week the vampires were vanquished and Mickey returned to me.
Amazing and Amazing again. I love it. Thank you Fanpal!
Mickey, we have a lot of catching up to do, so much has happened in the past 27 years.
It’s funny, although I was never a big Mickey Mouse fan, now two of my favorite things are Mickey themed. Of course the ring I’ve complained about for years, and my Mickey Mouse watch my grandmother gave me, which I’ve worn pretty much every day since I was a Jr. in High school.
A few years ago I wrote a blog about my “idiot strings.” I got reintroduced to the pleasures of mittens as my reward! That was fabulous, and I still have both of my mittens, even without the idiot strings.
This week I got a really special, unexpected gift by way of blog via fan/pen pal. (Fanpal?) I wrote about my much mourned over Mickey Mouse ring of ye old days of yore when vampires ate such trinkets to induce great fear and loathing from little girls such as I.
This week the vampires were vanquished and Mickey returned to me.
Amazing and Amazing again. I love it. Thank you Fanpal!
Mickey, we have a lot of catching up to do, so much has happened in the past 27 years.
It’s funny, although I was never a big Mickey Mouse fan, now two of my favorite things are Mickey themed. Of course the ring I’ve complained about for years, and my Mickey Mouse watch my grandmother gave me, which I’ve worn pretty much every day since I was a Jr. in High school.
Friday, November 05, 2004
Words we know and love:
Screw
The screw fell out, do you have another one?
I can’t screw this in, the wood is too hard.
Did you get anything done, or have you just been screwing around?
That used car salesman screwed him over.
Man, that dude is screwed up.
That dude is a screw up.
I saw this couple screwing along the side of the road!
Screw you!
Screwball!
He is so screwy.
I am so screwed.
Screw it!
Screw
Screw
The screw fell out, do you have another one?
I can’t screw this in, the wood is too hard.
Did you get anything done, or have you just been screwing around?
That used car salesman screwed him over.
Man, that dude is screwed up.
That dude is a screw up.
I saw this couple screwing along the side of the road!
Screw you!
Screwball!
He is so screwy.
I am so screwed.
Screw it!
Screw
Sunday, October 31, 2004
A brown eyed handsome man:
I joined orkut- third invitation is a charm. It came from Ali Reza, he is a young Iranian man I tutored in English while I was in Dubai. I also spent lots of time with his, then secret crush, now wife, Marriam.
They are both adorable, and each (separately, since they were both from consevative families who would never agree that they should spend time together before certain arrangements had been made) made my time in Dubai more enjoyable by far.
He called me tonight, I haven't talked to him in years. He and Marriam are living and going to school in Sydney now. He is working at a Persian carpet store, and he says they are both very busy at "Uni."
When I think of Ali, this is what I remember first. Occationally we would go into the city and look for things in the bigger markets. Ali was very protective and responsible for my well being and never let me get lost. We walked along a street in Dubai, he was close enough to me to sing the call to prayer in my ear and he laughed when I smiled and asked him what it meant.
He would have liked for me to be converted. I fear I would have made an even worse Muslim than I do a Christian.
I told him about my dog. When he asked his name I told him his name is Buzz, I was going to call him "Buzorg" which is Farsi for "big," but nobody would get the joke.
Ali got it. :0)
I joined orkut- third invitation is a charm. It came from Ali Reza, he is a young Iranian man I tutored in English while I was in Dubai. I also spent lots of time with his, then secret crush, now wife, Marriam.
They are both adorable, and each (separately, since they were both from consevative families who would never agree that they should spend time together before certain arrangements had been made) made my time in Dubai more enjoyable by far.
He called me tonight, I haven't talked to him in years. He and Marriam are living and going to school in Sydney now. He is working at a Persian carpet store, and he says they are both very busy at "Uni."
When I think of Ali, this is what I remember first. Occationally we would go into the city and look for things in the bigger markets. Ali was very protective and responsible for my well being and never let me get lost. We walked along a street in Dubai, he was close enough to me to sing the call to prayer in my ear and he laughed when I smiled and asked him what it meant.
He would have liked for me to be converted. I fear I would have made an even worse Muslim than I do a Christian.
I told him about my dog. When he asked his name I told him his name is Buzz, I was going to call him "Buzorg" which is Farsi for "big," but nobody would get the joke.
Ali got it. :0)
Monday, October 25, 2004
I had a dream, two dreams actually that vaguely follow this scenario: Much like the fantasy novels I’ve been reading lately, there is a young man in my dreams who is quite extraordinary.
However, he has only recently discovered how special he is. He grew up knowing nothing of his true identity, but suddenly it is revealed that he is a leader, a king, a warrior, a savior a sorcerer. It is prophesized that he will save the world, and while he travels with an entourage of devout followers and warriors for his cause, many are out to stop him, kill him, end the prophesy and make the days of man dark and ugly.
In the second dream, which I remember more clearly, I am part of his entourage. I had always known him, and when he learns of his new role, I am the first to accept it. I embrace it before even he understands what has happened.
In the dream, I am very unselfish, none of the reality of the jealous “why aren’t I the special one?” or the pride “he is special, so by association, I am too.” In the dream, I understand true humility.
I carry with me a basket of sweet grass and wild flowers, and I spread them out before his feet on the path. And he asks me why I’ve done this. I don’t remember my answer. I don’t remember answering. I remember I loved him. I remember it was so easy to love him, without jealousy or pride or possession. I remember knowing that what is on the ground, beneath his feet is more blessed than that which has never known him.
Messianic, yes I know.
He was beautiful, and I miss knowing him as I knew him in my dream. It was only last night and I miss knowing him.
However, he has only recently discovered how special he is. He grew up knowing nothing of his true identity, but suddenly it is revealed that he is a leader, a king, a warrior, a savior a sorcerer. It is prophesized that he will save the world, and while he travels with an entourage of devout followers and warriors for his cause, many are out to stop him, kill him, end the prophesy and make the days of man dark and ugly.
In the second dream, which I remember more clearly, I am part of his entourage. I had always known him, and when he learns of his new role, I am the first to accept it. I embrace it before even he understands what has happened.
In the dream, I am very unselfish, none of the reality of the jealous “why aren’t I the special one?” or the pride “he is special, so by association, I am too.” In the dream, I understand true humility.
I carry with me a basket of sweet grass and wild flowers, and I spread them out before his feet on the path. And he asks me why I’ve done this. I don’t remember my answer. I don’t remember answering. I remember I loved him. I remember it was so easy to love him, without jealousy or pride or possession. I remember knowing that what is on the ground, beneath his feet is more blessed than that which has never known him.
Messianic, yes I know.
He was beautiful, and I miss knowing him as I knew him in my dream. It was only last night and I miss knowing him.
Saturday, October 23, 2004
Dietrich Bonhoeffer, in his little book, Life Together states, “The final breakthrough to fellowship does not occur, because, though they have fellowship with on another as believers and as devout people, they do not have fellowship as the undevout, as sinners.” (110)
This was the quote used to open a skit I used to do with a performance group in college. The skit was about a young man confessing a sexual sin to his Sunday school class, and the class reacting to him, not in Christian love and understanding of weaknesses, but in revulsion and rejection.
One of the lines my friend was supposed to say after the secret was made known was, “I could always feel him watching me.” One day in practice she said, “I could always watch him feeling me.” Which, of course, was fabulously funny to me, and I still tease her about all these years later. The result of her slip of the tongue was that during every performance there was a longer than usual pause before that line so that she could make sure she was going to say it correctly.
Now, I’ve had the book Life Together on my shelf for several years, and I recently decided to read it through. Here are a few points of interest for me:
“If we do not give thanks daily for the Christian fellowship in which we have been placed, even where there is no greater experience, no discoverable riches, but much weakness, small faith and difficulty; if on the contrary, we only keep complaining to God that everything is so paltry and petty, so far from what we expected, then we hinder God from letting our fellowship grow according to the measure and riches which are there for us all in Jesus Christ.” P, 29
“Contrary to all my own opinions and convictions, Jesus Christ will tell me what love toward the brethren really is. Therefore, spiritual love is bound solely to the Word of Jesus Christ.” P.35
“Life together under the Word will remain sound and healthy only where it does not form itself into a movement, and order, a society, a collegium pietatis, but rather where it understands itself as being a s part of the one holy, catholic Christian Church, where it shares actively and passively in the sufferings and struggles and promise of the whole Church.” P. 37
“We are silent before hearing the Word because our thoughts are already directed to the
Word . . . We are silent after hearing the Word because the Word is still speaking and dwelling within us. We are silent at the beginning of the day because God should have the first word, and we are silent before going to sleep because the last word also belongs to God.” P.79
“Must it not be wholesome and conducive to humility for me to learn to bear such petty evils silently and patently?” p. 95
“Moreover, what we have said applies solely to confession between two Christians. A confession of sin in the presence of all the members of the congregation is not required to restore one to fellowship with the whole congregation. I meet the whole congregation in the one brother to whom I confess my sins and who forgives my sins. In the fellowship I find with this one brother I have already found fellowship with the whole congregation.” P. 113
This was the quote used to open a skit I used to do with a performance group in college. The skit was about a young man confessing a sexual sin to his Sunday school class, and the class reacting to him, not in Christian love and understanding of weaknesses, but in revulsion and rejection.
One of the lines my friend was supposed to say after the secret was made known was, “I could always feel him watching me.” One day in practice she said, “I could always watch him feeling me.” Which, of course, was fabulously funny to me, and I still tease her about all these years later. The result of her slip of the tongue was that during every performance there was a longer than usual pause before that line so that she could make sure she was going to say it correctly.
Now, I’ve had the book Life Together on my shelf for several years, and I recently decided to read it through. Here are a few points of interest for me:
“If we do not give thanks daily for the Christian fellowship in which we have been placed, even where there is no greater experience, no discoverable riches, but much weakness, small faith and difficulty; if on the contrary, we only keep complaining to God that everything is so paltry and petty, so far from what we expected, then we hinder God from letting our fellowship grow according to the measure and riches which are there for us all in Jesus Christ.” P, 29
“Contrary to all my own opinions and convictions, Jesus Christ will tell me what love toward the brethren really is. Therefore, spiritual love is bound solely to the Word of Jesus Christ.” P.35
“Life together under the Word will remain sound and healthy only where it does not form itself into a movement, and order, a society, a collegium pietatis, but rather where it understands itself as being a s part of the one holy, catholic Christian Church, where it shares actively and passively in the sufferings and struggles and promise of the whole Church.” P. 37
“We are silent before hearing the Word because our thoughts are already directed to the
Word . . . We are silent after hearing the Word because the Word is still speaking and dwelling within us. We are silent at the beginning of the day because God should have the first word, and we are silent before going to sleep because the last word also belongs to God.” P.79
“Must it not be wholesome and conducive to humility for me to learn to bear such petty evils silently and patently?” p. 95
“Moreover, what we have said applies solely to confession between two Christians. A confession of sin in the presence of all the members of the congregation is not required to restore one to fellowship with the whole congregation. I meet the whole congregation in the one brother to whom I confess my sins and who forgives my sins. In the fellowship I find with this one brother I have already found fellowship with the whole congregation.” P. 113
http://www.roadsideamerica.com/attract/PALINcarp.html
http://www.grayco.com/cleveland/mott/sample4.html
It is, it is mesmerizing! About a million huge carp crammed together greedy for the tourist day old wonder bread. Yes, I did this as a child, yes I had a T-shirt proclaim "Pymatuning, where ducks walk on fish!" For some reason this fishy memory is intertwined with my remembrances of my visits to the pumpkin farm in the autumn.
In the north east mid-autumn when the leaves are still flaming, and hanging in their dying moments to sleepy trees. When the squirrels are frantic and the wind is sharp but not yet bitter. This is when the world seems to be nothing but orange and red and yellow, and the sidewalks and lawns are deep with leaves that whisper and splinter as they are waded through. This is the time to visit the pumpkin farm, where the pumpkins are piled in mountains impossible to climb- where the pumpkins range in size from what fits in a toddlers hand to what a toddler can fit inside.
I don't have any pictures from the pumpkin farm, I don't have any special memories, aside from the pumpkins and the atmosphere, but I treasure the memory, what there is of it-- those visits contain the indescribable glory of autumn in the north east, in the Sylvania by the Great Lakes.
I miss autumn, but not the long, long winter. Today I looked at a map of the county I grew up in, (searching for a pumpkin farm) and I wondered at how few towns were there. It's more agrarian than I remembered.
http://www.grayco.com/cleveland/mott/sample4.html
It is, it is mesmerizing! About a million huge carp crammed together greedy for the tourist day old wonder bread. Yes, I did this as a child, yes I had a T-shirt proclaim "Pymatuning, where ducks walk on fish!" For some reason this fishy memory is intertwined with my remembrances of my visits to the pumpkin farm in the autumn.
In the north east mid-autumn when the leaves are still flaming, and hanging in their dying moments to sleepy trees. When the squirrels are frantic and the wind is sharp but not yet bitter. This is when the world seems to be nothing but orange and red and yellow, and the sidewalks and lawns are deep with leaves that whisper and splinter as they are waded through. This is the time to visit the pumpkin farm, where the pumpkins are piled in mountains impossible to climb- where the pumpkins range in size from what fits in a toddlers hand to what a toddler can fit inside.
I don't have any pictures from the pumpkin farm, I don't have any special memories, aside from the pumpkins and the atmosphere, but I treasure the memory, what there is of it-- those visits contain the indescribable glory of autumn in the north east, in the Sylvania by the Great Lakes.
I miss autumn, but not the long, long winter. Today I looked at a map of the county I grew up in, (searching for a pumpkin farm) and I wondered at how few towns were there. It's more agrarian than I remembered.
Friday, October 22, 2004
Look at both dolphins jumping out of the water. The dolphins areidentical. A closely monitored, scientific study revealed that in spite
of the fact that the dolphins are identical, a person under stress will
find differences in the two dolphins. If there are many differences
found between the dolphins, it means that the person is experiencing
significant amount of stress.
Look at the photograph. If you find more than one or two differencesyou may want to take a vacation.
of the fact that the dolphins are identical, a person under stress will
find differences in the two dolphins. If there are many differences
found between the dolphins, it means that the person is experiencing
significant amount of stress.
Look at the photograph. If you find more than one or two differencesyou may want to take a vacation.
Saturday, October 16, 2004
In a rather disturbing report from the kitchen: I just found half a bag of frozen peas and carrots in the cabinent where I keep my tools. I suspect it has been there since yesterday morning when I had it out to pack my lunch at 6:15 am.
mental note: Pack lunch the night before to avoid finding random vegetables in unlikely places as a result of not being a morning person.
mental note: Pack lunch the night before to avoid finding random vegetables in unlikely places as a result of not being a morning person.
Friday, October 15, 2004
Here it is Halloween time again, and I thought, well time again to retell the old story about how Dracula ate my Micky Mouse ring. It’s an old tale, sad but true. I was sure I had given a very detailed account of the event on my blog, but alas, when I looked I found only 1 small reference, well 2, but only one showed up when I searched “Micky Mouse” in my archives, the other one was under “Dracula.”
When I was a child I was painfully shy. (Seriously.) I was terribly afraid to talk to strangers, unless I was animated about a certain subject, and they asked the right question. My mother, of course, knew what the right questions were to get me started on these certain topics. She thought it was really funny for me to explain things to people, because while my explanations made perfect sense to me, adult type people were baffled with my small child reasoning and conviction on the above mentioned topics. Therefore, she would set me up by telling people to ask me questions about my latest obsesion.
One of the big topics was how I was born with a bandage on my head, another important one was how Dracula ate my Micky Mouse ring.
Here’s the story, because I remember this happening:
My mother, brothers, grandmother and I had just gone to the downtown mall. A small, adjustable Micky Mouse ring had been purchaced. It was Micky standing sideways with this little hands behind his back. Adorable, and since I was only 3, even at the smallest adjutable size, it was too big.
After the mall we went to a haunted house. One of the first things to happen at the haunted house was a vampire jumped out at us. That scared me out of my skin, and I literally climbed up my mother’s leg. (which wasn’t easy because she wore a brace.) After that the haunted house was anti-climatic. (Maybe the monsters felt bad about scaring a little girl.) As soon as we got out of the haunted house, I realized that my brand new Micky Mouse ring was gone! And I knew, I knew in my heart that Dracula had eaten my ring! Nobody else would have done it, it had to be him because he was so mean and jumped out to scare me! (I’m not sure why I was convinced that he actually ate it, but that was the immediate conviction on the matter.)
I insisted that we go back and demand my Micky Mouse ring back! Oh I was livid about the affair and my mother said, “Are you going to tell Dracula to give it back?” and I said yes I would! So, we all trouped back to the haunted house and of course Dracula was the first to greet us again, an naturally I lost all my resolve and hid behind my mother. She asked about the ring, he said he never saw it, but I knew he was lying!
I knew he ate it! We looked around just incase, but it was gone, and I was so mad! So, ever after if my mother wanted to get me started, even into my adulthood, all she had to say was, “Ask Shannon about her Micky Mouse ring.” My response was always, “Dracula ate it!” And I would launch into this story about the haunted house and how scary Dracula was, and how mean he was to eat my ring and none of the other monsters were as mean or scary or bad as he was!
I still don’t like vampires, (well, who does? But I have an origional reason at least) and I still want my Micky Mouse ring back!
When I was a child I was painfully shy. (Seriously.) I was terribly afraid to talk to strangers, unless I was animated about a certain subject, and they asked the right question. My mother, of course, knew what the right questions were to get me started on these certain topics. She thought it was really funny for me to explain things to people, because while my explanations made perfect sense to me, adult type people were baffled with my small child reasoning and conviction on the above mentioned topics. Therefore, she would set me up by telling people to ask me questions about my latest obsesion.
One of the big topics was how I was born with a bandage on my head, another important one was how Dracula ate my Micky Mouse ring.
Here’s the story, because I remember this happening:
My mother, brothers, grandmother and I had just gone to the downtown mall. A small, adjustable Micky Mouse ring had been purchaced. It was Micky standing sideways with this little hands behind his back. Adorable, and since I was only 3, even at the smallest adjutable size, it was too big.
After the mall we went to a haunted house. One of the first things to happen at the haunted house was a vampire jumped out at us. That scared me out of my skin, and I literally climbed up my mother’s leg. (which wasn’t easy because she wore a brace.) After that the haunted house was anti-climatic. (Maybe the monsters felt bad about scaring a little girl.) As soon as we got out of the haunted house, I realized that my brand new Micky Mouse ring was gone! And I knew, I knew in my heart that Dracula had eaten my ring! Nobody else would have done it, it had to be him because he was so mean and jumped out to scare me! (I’m not sure why I was convinced that he actually ate it, but that was the immediate conviction on the matter.)
I insisted that we go back and demand my Micky Mouse ring back! Oh I was livid about the affair and my mother said, “Are you going to tell Dracula to give it back?” and I said yes I would! So, we all trouped back to the haunted house and of course Dracula was the first to greet us again, an naturally I lost all my resolve and hid behind my mother. She asked about the ring, he said he never saw it, but I knew he was lying!
I knew he ate it! We looked around just incase, but it was gone, and I was so mad! So, ever after if my mother wanted to get me started, even into my adulthood, all she had to say was, “Ask Shannon about her Micky Mouse ring.” My response was always, “Dracula ate it!” And I would launch into this story about the haunted house and how scary Dracula was, and how mean he was to eat my ring and none of the other monsters were as mean or scary or bad as he was!
I still don’t like vampires, (well, who does? But I have an origional reason at least) and I still want my Micky Mouse ring back!
Wednesday, October 13, 2004
Everytime I try to do research on the computer, I feel like I have to wrestle with it to get any information. I keep getting the image of Jacob wrestling with God. If only I were more persistent like Jacob . . . "I'm not going to give up until you bless me." Man, if I had that kind of dedication, my fingers might never leave the keyboard . . . sigh . . . Of course Jacob gained a limp from that match . . . I'll probably get carpal tunnel, I think I already have carpal thumble from pipetting at work.
who's smarter? Me or the machine?
I fear it's the machine
(bastard!)
who's smarter? Me or the machine?
I fear it's the machine
(bastard!)
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